Page 9 of The Serial Killer’s Sister (The Serial Killer’s Daughter #3)

‘Are you all right, Anna?’

DI Walker’s words seem far away; muffled. I hear them but I’m unable to respond. My mind is back there. At Finley Hall. Where this unfolding nightmare began.

‘Anna? Anna!’

I snap back to the here and now and stare at the detective, all wide-eyed and startled. ‘Sorry. Was thinking.’

‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’ DI Walker’s face is uncomfortably close to mine – if I lie to him, he’s going to see it. I read somewhere that starting a lie with the truth makes it more convincing. And I’m not actually going to lie . I’m just not going to give him the full story.

‘I think you’re right about Henry coming after me,’ I say. DI Walker’s eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t speak, so I take a breath and carry on. ‘But I’m not so sure I’m going to be his next victim. Well, not a victim in the sense that he intends to kill me.’

DI Walker’s face scrunches up in confusion. ‘What makes you think that?’

‘Because this,’ I point at the newspaper article on the table, ‘is a game. One that we used to play a long time ago. And all this is his way of drawing me into it.’

‘Why?’

‘That, I don’t know.’ I force myself to keep eye contact with him. I consciously prevent myself from blinking, swallowing hard or fidgeting because those tells will expose me. ‘But he’s made his first move.’

‘Like chess?’

I hesitate. I know I should explain more about The Hunt; how and why it started at the children’s home – what it became – but the instinct to hold back this information until I know Henry’s full intentions myself is too strong.

‘Something like that, yes.’ I push myself off the sofa, slowly so as to test my legs, and then retrieve my laptop. ‘And there’s something else.’ I pass it to him.

‘What’s this?’

‘The reason I called you,’ I say. ‘I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I think what happened is connected.’

‘What do you mean, what happened?’ I sense frustration in DI Walker’s clipped tone.

‘Just … watch.’ I lean across him and hit the button to play the footage.

I pay close attention to DI Walker’s expression, silently picking at my fingernail while the CCTV of the zebra crossing incident plays out.

When it stops, the detective looks up briefly, frowns, then watches again.

And again. My nerves can’t take this, I begin to pace.

‘So? What do you think?’ I say, when his silence becomes too much to bear.

‘About your behaviour? Or about the fact someone has been able to access the CCTV?’

My face burns. ‘It cuts off at a moment that makes it look a lot worse than it was. Had it played for longer, you’d see that I calmed down and I gently put my hands on her shoulders; it really didn’t happen the way it looks here.

’ I’m rambling, I know. My attempt at convincing him is, I’m well aware, more of an attempt to convince myself.

‘I rather imagine that was the point. Clever.’ He looks at it yet again, this time pausing it frame by frame. ‘The date and time stamp has been cropped out. What time did this occur?’

‘It was around eight forty. I left here about ten minutes after you left.’

‘You were followed, then.’ He says this so calmly it makes me stop my pacing.

‘What?’

‘You said you weren’t sure how it could be connected, but if they were following you and witnessed it, they might well have used the opportunity to their advantage.’

I’m about to argue against his theory – it sounds ludicrous.

But then I remember how preoccupied I was and realise I wouldn’t have noticed if a vehicle was tailing me.

Still, why not just record it with their mobile phone?

It’s easier and less time-consuming than tracking down the exact piece of CCTV.

‘Doesn’t explain how they got hold of the CCTV footage so easily.’ I verbalise my thought.

‘Leave that to me.’ DI Walker gets up. ‘I’ll get on to digital forensics, see if they can help.’

‘Will they be able to trace who posted it?’ I watch as DI Walker’s mouth turns down at the corners while he seems to think about his answer, and I bite the nail of my index finger because his pause is too long.

‘Given that he knew how to hack it in the first place, I’d be surprised if they could. He’d likely know how to make himself untraceable. But you never know.’

My shoulders slump. ‘What should I do?’

‘Figure out what this clue means.’ DI Walker takes a photo of the riddle and then folds the paper up and places it in an evidence bag.

‘The solution will lead us to whatever he wants you to find. As much as I loathe games, I can’t see another way.

You have to play, Anna. It’s our only chance to find him. Stop him.’

‘If he’s been here, though, and evaded capture by you and your team … what makes you think following this clue will get you any closer to catching him?’

‘Now he’s left the envelope, he’ll know we’re onto him. It’s very unlikely he’ll turn up here again. No. My bet is that he’ll be close to wherever that clue takes us. He’ll be watching.’ DI Walker takes off the gloves and stuffs them into his jacket pocket.

‘That makes sense.’ Bile burns in my stomach. The thought of Henry watching me this morning, and now waiting for me at the location he’s set, is terrifying. What does he want?

‘The other date is key. Have you had any further thoughts about May the thirteenth?’

‘I’ve racked my brains, but no.’ I shake my head. ‘I could dig out my old diaries …’

‘That’s a great idea, yes. It’s clearly a significant event and it would seem highly plausible that it should be a date from his past. Maybe from your childhood prior to the children’s home, or an event that marked a change for him at Finley Hall.’

‘I’ll get on it.’

‘Thanks.’ DI Walker gives me a nod, then asks for my mobile number.

He takes his phone and taps a few buttons.

‘Right. I’ve sent you the image of the riddle.

Don’t show anyone.’ He doesn’t wait for a response.

Turning away, he stalks towards the front door.

‘Anna,’ he says as he’s on the threshold, ‘make sure to call me the second you think of something. Anything. I can’t reiterate just how crucial it is we figure this out as soon as possible. ’

‘Yes, DI Walker. I fully understand the urgency.’

I watch the detective fold himself into his car and keep my eyes on the Audi as it goes down the narrow road and disappears around the corner. Then, after a wary glance around to check if anyone is there, I rush back inside and lock the door.

I don’t have any diaries from my time at Finley Hall. I burned them all.

But I don’t need them to work out the clue.

The location was obvious to me the moment the riddle mentioned the words ‘middle for diddle’.

Ross is due back any minute, so I won’t be able to leave right away.

With my mobile in my hand, Google Maps open, I pace from the lounge to the kitchen and back, staring down at the screen as I try to formulate some kind of plan.

It says it’s a three-hour drive from here; I’ll set off early in the morning, before Ross gets up.

That way I can avoid any awkward questions.

With luck, it’ll also mean I can avoid detection from the police, because I can’t afford for DI Walker to be with me when I find what Henry’s left for me.